


relationship origins

by psychedelicbubblegum



Series: MASHverse [9]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, POV First Person, Pre-Avengers (2012), Tony Stark (mentioned) - Freeform, pre-meet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 19:10:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7001053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychedelicbubblegum/pseuds/psychedelicbubblegum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which we see into the mind of a young Sebastian 'Seb' Boudreaux a mere matter of days before he meets his future wife...</p>
            </blockquote>





	relationship origins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Accidental_Ducky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cherry Blossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6799864) by [Accidental_Ducky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Accidental_Ducky/pseuds/Accidental_Ducky). 



“Sebastian? Could I have a word?” Truth be told, I hadn’t really been paying attention when Mrs Naismith called my name as the final bell before lunch chimed, signalling we could all be released from the confines of history class to laze about the bleachers, gossiping about the fact Sandee McCall had dyed her hair an _even lighter_ shade of blonde ( _oh, call the press,_ was all I’d could mutter in response when my science partner – often academically underestimated gossip hub Rose Hebdon – had announced this life changing event in terms of the school social scene).

“Dude what the hell?” A familiar voice – a little deeper than my own, something that constantly was picked up on by the opposite sex – called from just behind me to my right; Timothy ‘Ozzy’ Ozmand had been my best friend since kindergarten, despite the fact you generally wouldn’t put us in the same bracket, based on the fact I dressed like I’d already got my law degree and Ozzy looked like he came straight off a Guns N’ Roses album cover – I had to admit, the wild dark curls grown down past his chin really had helped improve a look only he could pull off without looking like a goon. I’d never quite got how his genetics allowed that – but girls’ did, or at least liked how it looked on him, so bitching about it was only pointless and rude. “Has Naismiths’ blatant favourite finally lost his golden boy position?” Ozzy sounded amused and bewildered – mostly amused – but I couldn’t blame him – I had no idea why she was calling on me either after a lesson of praising my Napoleon essay.

“I have no idea,” I muttered back, but something about the way Naismith was glaring at him for hovering by my desk, instead of running out the classroom like the rest of top set history class, seemed to get across the message fast enough he wasn’t wanted.

“I’ll wait for you outside just in case she breaks your arm and you need carrying to the nurses’ office!” He muttered – thankfully missing out ‘ _again_ ’ after the fondly-remembered time I fainted when we were dissecting a frog and bodily fluids had spurted onto my hand after a misjudged prod of the scalpel had disastrous effects.

Sweeping from the classroom in a mixture of tattered denim and well-loved leather – getting the Guns N’ Roses images yet forming in your head? Like a modernised, kinda hip version – I was left alone to confront the much feared top set history teacher, Mrs Lavinia Naismith, without my best friend (who’d long suffered through my hatred of blood and pathological fear of large dogs – namely because his mom, my Aunt Gretchen, was a vet and they owned a Doberman-Schnauzer crossbreed named Jampot), who’s usual scowl was replaced by a look of…concern?

“Um, yes, Miss?” I asked. Had I flunked on a test and she just hadn’t wanted to humiliate me? Granted, Naismith was renowned for her strict teaching methods and her obsession with orderliness, but she wasn’t prone to the petty cruelties of humiliation tactics other members of the facility were prone to dishing out whenever they felt like it.

“Now, Sebastian,” she sighed – moving round her desk, a large textbook in hand; I vaguely recognised it, it was the Civil War text book we’d used last year, and a dreaded feeling of interaction with strangers overcame me, with the word ‘tutoring’ flashing before my eyes was they widened slightly. “I don’t like calling upon any of my students – especially one of my most capable such as yourself – for helping those, but seeing as you wrote the highest scoring Civil War essay in the year group-” a fact my parents never stopped bringing up at their dinner parties much to my embarrassment “I realised you’d be the best candidate to help me out with this. A student of mine in the year below you sadly missed out the beginning of this topic because a _certain member_ of her family decided a holiday to the Canary Islands was _far more important_.” 

_Oh fuck._

There was only one person in the entire school who was well-known for being taken out of school on a couple of occasions by her incredibly rich – _weapons expert_ – guardian decided it was a good idea. The whole ‘being brutally tortured with military weapons’ thing didn’t really appeal to me if I didn’t help her at least get a solid B in her end of topic essay, but it wasn’t really my place to decide whether or not I didn’t give her my time or help, especially if I’d been recommended. 

Marianna ‘Mari’ Pierce wasn’t really a school celebrity – granted we went to a school which was massive in terms of population, and there were a lot of kids with high profile relatives based on its positioning – with her name only really cropping up when her legal guardian, the one and only Tony Stark of Stark Industries, deciding a vacation to somewhere hot and with no drinking age was far more important than a stupid old essay on Shakespeares’ _Twelfth Night_. In most classes you could easily catch-up on the missed word with just a couple chats with the teacher – but history was different. A lot of the important parts were explained in the lessons themselves – to a degree the text books were unable – so missing the first part of the Civil War topic was really going to put a dent in her grade. Especially in Mrs Naismiths’ top set History class.

“Um…sure.” My voice sounded strangled – if anyone asked I just had a heavy cold, okay? – but if Mrs Naismith picked up on it, she ignored it because Mari Pierces’ grades were far more important than my over-exaggerated fears of Tony Stark brutally bombing me if I didn’t help his little sister figure get the grades she wanted to get into a decent college. “What’s um…what’s the plan then?” In the fact of potential execution, at least try and be a little positive.

“If it’s not too much trouble, just meet with her every Thursday lunchtime and talk her through the main points, answer any questions she has; basically just simple tutoring. If she asks a question you don’t understand, direct her to me, but seeing as history’s gone up in popularity, I don’t really have the time to personally tutor a student, no matter how much I might want to, and you’re one of my most trusted, reliable, competent students, so I thought you’d take this more seriously than _others_ would.”

Others usually meant Ozzy – he’d become her public enemy; and quite frankly our friendship seemed to baffle her – but it was mainly because he was far more opinionated in his essays than I’d dream of being. Turned out calling General Custer a ‘peanut-brained, limp-dicked, raving knobhead’ in your first ever essay the teacher ever viewed wasn’t going to make you teachers’ pet. No, I’d been given that prestigious honour, much to the amusement of _all_ my friends.

“Oh yeah, that’ll be fine!” _Of course it would be genius_ , I reminded myself. _You have a limited enough social life the way it is – having to make sure Jackson doesn’t burn the house down – so sacrificing a lunchtime isn’t really going to get-back all the parties you missed out on minding your younger brother._

“Thank you so much Sebastian,” she smiled at me in a benign fashion – she always looked a lot younger when she actually cracked a smile – before turning to the door. “You’ll meet with her tomorrow in my classroom?”

I gulped – somehow I managed to audibly gulp to make this even more humiliating – and nodded, forcing a sickly smile upon my face. “Yeah, sure!” I’d returned to that good old tone giving you the impression I was being throttled, but yet again, she either ignored or didn’t pick up on it. I was betting on the former in all honesty. 

**Author's Note:**

> so originally I wasn't sure if this was going to be a oneshot or if I'd chapter it, but for now I'm going to keep it as a oneshot so I can actually post it before I get sidetracked with waffling and the ten billion other fanfiction projects I have on hold (also I totally wasn't terrified of getting these two wrong because they're not my precious babies). This is the first thing I'm posting so I can actually be terrified (who me?), and I guess this is a massive prequel to Cherry Blossoms. hope you enjoy!


End file.
